


For Your Own Good

by YanzaDracan



Category: Actor RPF, Kane (Band), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Ending Relationship, Established Relationship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Music, Musicians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanzaDracan/pseuds/YanzaDracan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lies, Damned Lies & Statistics - I never loved you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don't own them. They belong only to themselves. This is a figment of my imagination and a work of fiction. I'm not making any money. Any goofs are mine.

“I never loved you.” 

The words fell between the two men like stones. 

Blue eyes filled with tears that his pride would not allow to fall. He had come and laid his heart at his partner’s feet, and now he had his answer. 

“It’s been great—I thought you got it, man. I can’t leave my projects.” His brow furrowed in confusion at the others' reaction. 

“Yeah in the beginning…but…we…I…” Words and emotions clogged his throat. 

His chin fell to his chest, hair falling forward to hide his face as he started to turn away. 

“Man, I hope it works out. Let me know how it goes.” 

He used Hollywood speak to separate himself from the other man. 

“Call me when you get back in town.” His tone was flippant. 

Strong arms drew him in for one last hug. The raspy voice whispered brokenly against his ear. 

“I’ll always love you.” 

Blue eyes closed from the pain as a fist closed around his heart at what he had done to the man in his arms. He only hoped one day he’d be forgiven, but he knew his partner wouldn’t leave LA without him. So he gave him another push. 

“It’s been real.” He took a quick step back, and watched the usually open expression close off. 

‘It’s been real.’ His heart shattered at the words and the quick push away. He quickly pasted on his ‘public’ face. Shoulders hunched, he headed for the door. 

“Good luck with your projects, darlin’.” His voice was harsh from the lump in his throat. 

He never moved, not until he heard the familiar rumble pull out of the driveway. He sank down onto the couch, tears sliding down his face. 

“I’ll always love you, too, Christian.” He whispered brokenly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can the damage be repaired?

Nothing registers but pain—so he writes. His pain pours out of his guitar and onto the page. 

A familiar touch lifts his head. Green eyes full of worry look into swollen, bloodshot blue. 

“Dammit, Carlson. Why didn’t you call me you dumb son of a bitch?” 

His guitar disappears as he’s drug to the bedroom, stripped and thrown in the shower. Jensen must have been afraid he’d drown himself since he sternly told him if he wasn’t out in ten minutes, he’d kick his ass. 

The shower, a simple omelet with coffee and he almost feels human. Rummaging around the house, grumbling under his breath about the stupidity of his friends, Jensen has a duffel, a guitar case and laptop bag sitting by the door. 

Cleaning up the last of the dishes, he throws a jacket at the morose singer. 

“Cab’s here. Move your ass.” He shoves the laptop into Steve’s arms as he herds him out the door. 

He finds himself on a plane to Vancouver before he can gather his scattered thoughts enough to protest. 

A bone deep exhaustion sets in after he’s been smothered in the world’s largest hug--Jared, and drowned in slobber--Harley and Sadie. 

Force fed pizza and plied with beer and Jack, he tells Jensen of his great plan to get Christian to take his shot at Nashville by ripping both their hearts out and shoving the bleeding man out the door. 

“He’d never gone if I hadn’t done it.” He whispered brokenly against Jensen’s shoulder. 

“He wanted you with him.” Jen stated. 

“I was a crutch.” 

Frustration makes Jensen want to bang his head on the coffee table, then knock Steve and Christian’s heads together to see if anything shakes loose that acts like a brain. 

Instead he tucks his drunk, depressed friend into bed and held him until exhaustion pulled him into sleep. 

Before drifting to sleep, Jensen started counting the frequent flyer miles he was going to rack up. 

 

Nothing registers but pain—so he works. He hides behind his persona. Christian Fucking Kane never looks back and never slows down. His temper is hair trigger, and Black Jack is his new best friend. 

Nashville is suffocating him. He spends grueling hours at the recording studio, but actor, Christian doesn’t sing the songs. Christian the man sings the songs. The man’s soul is bleeding, and there’s blood on every note of every song. 

It takes several minutes for him to realize the pounding he hears is not the headache from his hangover, but someone beating on his door. 

Cussing a blue streak and questioning the legitimacy of the person beating on his door, he jerks it open, primed for battle. He stops and blinks in surprise when green eyes glare back at him. 

“Jenny?” He gapes several times in surprise. “What are you doin’ here?” 

He peers around to see if Jensen’s alone. 

“I just flew 2600 miles at the ass crack of dawn, the least you could do is invite me in.” He brushes past Christian and drops his duffel by the couch. 

“Gotta tell ya man—ya look like shit.” Jensen throws over his shoulder as he heads for the kitchen. 

By the time Christian collects his wits and shuts the door, the smell of coffee fills the house. 

“What’re ya doin’ here, Jensen?” 

“This week’s episode is more Sam than Dean…so I got a few days off, thought I’d come see my good friend, Christian Kane, who seems to have lost both my phone number and email address, and just hang out for a few days—ya know catch up—bend the ‘ol elbow a little bit.” 

He looks a bit sheepish at the scolding, then his eyes narrow. 

“Did someone put you up to this?” 

Green eyes fill with hurt, and Christian feels like an ass. 

“You’re both my friends. I won’t take sides.” He says softly as he pulls the shorter man into a hug. 

That was all it took for the façade to crack, and Jensen to have an armful of broken Christian. 

After the storm passes, Jensen shoves Christian toward the shower and orders take out. After watching him try to drink his meal, Jensen browbeat and cajoled until the man ate food. 

While they’re eating, Christian talks about his battles with the record company, how they’re trying to make him into a Nashville clone…so he’s going to Argentina for a movie, then back to Los Angeles to film a pilot for a new series. Hopefully his contract will have expired by then and he can get his music back. 

When Jensen yawns and announces he’s going to bed, Christian is just drunk enough to ignore his pride and grab Jensen’s arm. 

“How is he, Jenny?” He asks quietly. 

“Just as fuckin’ miserable as you.” He answers truthfully. “He thought it was the only way you would do this…” he waves his arm toward Nashville, “so you wouldn’t always wonder.” 

He leaves Christian thinking. 

Hiatus from **_Supernatural_** finds Jensen still on the run. When he has to be away from LA he has Jason keep an eye on Steve, and Aldis looks after Christian. When he’s in LA he’s flying to Vegas with Steve. They wrote some songs that Steve wants to put on his new CD with Jensen singing backup vocals. 

Christian’s show, **_Leverage_** , gets picked up by TNT so he’ll be in town until at least winter break. Jensen hopes to get his friends talking to each other before then. This Yenta business is exhausting. 

Jensen convinces Steve to throw his usual end of hiatus party. He picks up Christian to insure his attendance since he’s flying back to Nashville in a few days to wrap up the end of his contract. 

Steve feels his heart start to beat for the first time in a year when he sees the familiar form following Jensen. 

When Jensen hugs Steve, he admonishes him to work things out with Christian before he locks the two stubborn men in a room together. 

They watch each other. Steve has his heart in his eyes, and Christian has his protective shell firmly in place. 

Jensen wants to pound his head on the wall watching the men circle like strange dogs. He lets out the breath he's holding when Steve makes the first move. 

“Buy you a beer?” He asks quietly. 

“Sure.” Christian growls. 

All evening he watches them, praying to whoever’s listening that they’ll listen to their hearts and not their pride. 

As with any of these parties, guitars appear around dark and the yard fills with music. Jensen stands in the shadows alone. He never moves even as he feels a familiar presence behind him. 

“Will you relax? They’ll work it out.” Jared speaks softly. 

“Hope you’re right, man. I’m not sure I can take much more.” Jensen chuckled tiredly. “They’ve been together longer than most marriages, but this…it might have been too much. I don’t know if Christian will let Steve get that close again.”

Jared starts to chuckle. He laughs harder when Jensen glares green daggers his way. 

“Dude—What’s so funny?” 

The younger man gets his laughter under control, and wipes the tears from his face. 

“Oh man, you’ve turned into my grandma.” Still chuckling, he walks back in the house. “Wanna a fresh beer?” 

Jensen flips him the finger and returns to his watching. 

Everyone’s gone home. Not wanting Christian to feel abandoned, Jensen stays. He and Steve are still out back, talking. 

Relieved they’re actually saying words out loud instead of Steve having to decipher ‘Christianspeak’, he starts cleaning up from the party. 

When the house is set to rights, he stretches out on the couch. He just wants to close his eyes for a minute then he’ll go home. 

Dawn’s just lighting the sky when the two men come into the house. Their eyes were red from tears and fears they shared. They’re a little drunk, fairly relaxed even with the intensity of their conversation, and hopefully on the right track to rebuilding their relationship. 

“Think we outta wake him up?” Christian drawls. 

“Let him sleep. He’s run himself ragged between the two of us.” Steve wraps his arms around him from behind. 

“He’s been a good friend.” Christian’s voice is ragged with emotion. 

“The best.” Steve agrees. 

Steve closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and jumps in with both feet. 

“Come to bed?” He asked quietly. 

“The muscular body in his arms stiffened. 

“I don’t think…I’m not…it’s…” He stutters and pulls away. 

Steve refuses to let go of his hand. “Just to sleep, Christian. I…,” now it was Steve’s turn to stutter, “After all we talked about…I just need you in my arms…to know you’re really here, and not just something my mind conjured.” 

Holding onto Steve’s hand, Christian looks back and forth between Jensen and Steve. 

Jensen, who has given his time, friendship, his broad shoulder, and threats to kick their asses to his friends to get them back on track. He’s pushed, shoved, cussed and cajoled until they’d pulled their heads out of their asses and listened. 

Steve has been his friend and lover for more than ten years. The blond brought out the best and the worst in him. He pushed him to follow his dream even to the point where he’d broken him and them. 

Jensen stopped the bleeding in his soul, and started to heal the broken man. 

Tonight talking with Steve has pulled the scab off to reveal a shiny pink scar. It still ached, and he trembles at the thought of the scar being ripped open again. 

He looked at the man who had exhausted himself to be there for his friends during the worst time of their lives, and looks at blue eyes full of hope and love… 

And takes a step.

~ Fini ~


End file.
